What Cannot Be
by Kate13
Summary: Hogwarts is solely for purebloods because of a mistake in the past. Draco and Hermione have to travel through time to change history and restore the wonderful world we know as the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.


****

What Cannot Be   
Chapter One 

****

A/N: Just as a warning/explanation, this really isn't as AU as it seems. It's really perfectly canon and yet... not... all at the same time. You'll see what I mean before long. 

****

Disclaimer: This work of fan fiction is based on characters, places, and situations from the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. No infringement is intended. 

Hermione Granger awoke with a start as her alarm clock rang in yet another day. _There had been a dream... but what was it?_ Unable to recall her nighttime vision, the fourteen-year-old girl slid reluctantly out of bed and headed for the shower. As the warm water began to flow over her, Hermione found it easy to forget the disturbing, almost nightmarish dream from the previous night. 

  
Clad in her usual plaid skirt, white blouse, and despised white knee socks, Hermione dashed downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had already left the house for work, but a small bowl of fresh fruit had been left at their daughter's place at the table. Hermione slid into her chair and snatched up the newspaper, eager to see what was going on in the world. 

  
_Driiiiing!_ Just as Hermione had begun to chew on a particularly delicious strawberry, the phone sounded. Hermione swallowed the berry with regret and picked up the receiver. 

  
'Hello?' 

  
The voice on the other end was familiar but stuffy. 'Hey, 'Mione, it's Anny. Bryant seems to have passed his flu onto the rest of us, so you'll have to make your own way to school. Sorry, kid.' 

  
Anny Whitman had been Hermione's best friend since they had been eleven years old, and the duo walked to school every morning with Anny's younger siblings, Bryant and Clair. Today, though, Hermione seemed to be on her own. 

  
'Okay, Anne, but take care of yourself. Stay in bed, drink lots of fluids, you know the deal. Don't play Anny the Nursing Heroine.' 

  
'Sure, Mione...' Anny's voice dropped off suddenly before she sneezed. 'Good luck with that French exam today!' 

  
'Thanks,' Hermione replied half-heartedly as Anny hung up the phone. She quickly finished her breakfast and grabbed her schoolbag. Slinging the rather heavy rucksack over her shoulder, Hermione ran a brush through her bushy brown hair and slid out the door, locking it after herself. 

  
The streets of London were as colourful and bustling as ever, and Hermione was proud to live there. While places in the country were quieter and other cities were a bit more... commonplace, London was just perfect in Hermione's eyes. 

  
About halfway to school, Hermione ducked into an alley to take a shortcut. A sudden hush fell over the area, and Hermione reveled in the peace. A moment later, though, she was shocked to see a schoolbook lying directly in her path. She had lost her copy of _The Wonderful World of Trigonometry_ the week before, but why was it in this alley? She and Anny rarely walked this way because the tall, grimy building walls scared Clair. Hermione threw aside her doubts, though - this was obviously her book. The dog-eared pages and the messily scirbbled pages of notes stuffed between them were obvious signs. With a sigh of wonder, Hermione bent down to collect her text. 

  
Just as her hands wrapped around the schoolbook, Hermione felt a tug near her navel, and the alley began to disappear... 

* * * * * 

  
Meanwhile, at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco Malfoy was getting the shock of his life. 

  
'You're telling me that you're pairing me up with a _Muggle_ for what you're calling "the most important mission in Hogwarts history"? And you expect me to come out alive?' 

  
'Now, Mr. Malfoy,' the headmaster chastised gently, 'you could stand to be a _little_ more open-minded. She's not really a Muggle, she's more of a... Muggle-born witch. Except... she doesn't know it. Oh, this will make a lot more sense when the two of you return!' 

  
'Whatever you say, Professor Dumbledore,' Malfoy drawled as a very bewildered girl appeared next to him. 'Oy!' he exclaimed, 'who's this? Some kind of beaver?' Before Dumbledore could reply, the answer dawned on the extremely blond boy. 'Ohhhhh! It's that _Muggle_ you were telling me about!' 

  
'Shhhh!' Dumbledore hushed Malfoy's sudden burst of wisdom. 'It's not nice to call people names they don't understand.' 

  
'Professor, you _do_ realise that you're addressing a Malfoy with these lessons on niceties, don't you?' 

  
'Um, excuse me,' Hermione inserted politely, 'but would someone mind explaining to me what has happened? In case you haven't noticed, I'm feeling rather lost here. What happened to London?' 

  
'Ah, yes!' Professor Dumbledore stroked his white beard thoughtfully. 'Miss Granger, this may seem rather incredible to you, but you are now inside the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the foremost magical institutes in the world. I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this house of learning. This is Draco Malfoy.' He motioned to the pale boy across the desk. 'Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger.' 

  
'This is all absolutely spiffy, but what about my classes?' Malfoy and Granger replied in unison. Immediately afterwards, it was as if daggers were being shot from all four of their eyes. 

  
'Mr. Malfoy, your professors have been informed of your absence. Miss Granger, no such formality was possible in your case, but, I assure you, it will be of no matter in the long run. You see, I have called you both here for a reason much more important than Algebra or Biology, Arithmancy or Divination.' Draco looked rather confused at the mention of the first two courses, Hermione at the latter pair. 

  
'I don't mean to be insubordinate, sir, but I have midterms in two weeks.' Hermione had always been a conscientious student. 'Whatever your cause may be, I sincerely hope that it really is as important as you have insinuated.' 

  
'I believe that it is,' Professor Dumbledore replied gravely. 'Perhaps I should begin to explain. Draco, you already know much of the story I'm about to tell, but Hermione doesn't, so humour me for her sake, okay?' 

  
From the rather sour expression on Malfoy's face, Hermione could tell that he found it rather ridiculous that he was to consider the Muggle girl ahead of himself. Hermione sent him a quick scowl as Draco leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. 

  
'Hermione, please, have a seat.' Dumbledore motioned to the rather comfy chair next to Draco's, only just realising that the girl in question was still standing. 

  
Obediantly, Hermione sat, then, after a moment of silence, prompted the weary professor. 'You were going to tell us a story?' 

  
'Ah, yes.' Dumbledore's voice was somber. 'Hogwarts was founded by four of the greatest magicians of all time: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and, of course, Salazar Slytherin. The four were all quite different in appearance, ethics, and beliefs, but they were united by the hope of making possible the education of generations of young wizards and witches.' 

  
Hermione had an enchanted look on her face, and she couldn't help but interrupt. 'I'm sorry, sir, but this just seems so... fantastic. I've read a lot of novels, and this sounds almost like the backstory to a miniseries. I've always hoped... well, I'll suffice it to say that, if you're joking, please give it up now. If this is all a charade, it's not funny, only cruel.' 

  
'Oh, Miss Granger, everything I'm telling you is absolutely true. The situation at hand is far too grave for anything but the truth.' The creases in the old wizard's face seemed to echo his words. 

  
Hermione let out a bit of breath that was half a sigh of relief and half a gasp of disbelief, but she allowed Dumbledore to continue. 

  
'Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor saw no problem with admitting _all_ types of young magicians to their academy. They had a vision of purebloods - wizards like Draco here, born of magicked families - and Muggle-borns - those of non-magical roots - being able to learn and live together. Slytherin, on the other hand, had a view that was slightly more elitist. He argued that only purebloods were capable of excelling in magic, that only purebloods should be invited to Hogwarts.' 

  
'And he was successful,' Malfoy added lazily. 'That's why _I_ am in line to be Head Boy and _you_-' he paused to scoff disdainfully, 'are attending - what was it again? - St. Hildebraithe's Academy for Blossoming Young Women?' 

  
'I _attend_ St. Hilda's School for Girls. It's a lovely place with fine academics, and I happen to _be_ first in my class. Now, please, _Professor_, continue.' Like all teenaged girls, Hermione was fond of speaking in italics. 

  
Dumbledore did precisely that, pretending that the miniature argument between the two teenagers had never happened. 'Shortly before the school was to open, Slytherin was killed by a curse from a Muggle-born witch. Enraged over the premature death of their comrade, the other three founders decided to honour his wish. Personally, I believe that they were misdirecting their anger at Slytherin's non-pureblood killer by taking away the oppurtunity for hundreds of other Muggle-borns to learn the art of magic.' 

  
'Professor, this is all very fascinating, but, please tell me, why am I here? I've already heard this story more times than I could possibly count.' 

  
'Well, Mr. Malfoy, this could be the last time you hear the story of Slytherin's untimely death. If the two of you succeed, that is...' 

  
'Forgive me, sir, but I'm not quite following. What is it that Draco and I are to do?' Hermione's molasses-brown eyes were clouded with confusion. 

  
'Ah, of course! It's quite simple, really. I need the two of you to go back in time and keep Salazar Slytherin alive...' 

****

So? What do you think? Review and let me know... it's really not too difficult. 

-Kate


End file.
